


Denial and Acceptance, Infatuation and Hell

by HannibalsAngel



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Navy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Clintasha - Freeform, Cock Tease, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub, Everyone Is Gay, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Lots of Sex, Lots of that, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Science Boyfriends, Secret Relationship, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Tension, Someone dies, Stucky - Freeform, Teasing, Touching, Yikes, but lets face it they're not experimenting they're both gay, clint's just kinda there, he's always in awkward situations, it's really not fair, rough everything, sigh, tony and bruce are a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalsAngel/pseuds/HannibalsAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is the maintenance guy in a fucking submarine and Bucky is the totally-not-gay-super-straight-I-swear ship commander. After Steve gives, said straight, commander a blowjob, Bucky accuses him of being a sea witch out to seduce him to get him in trouble, and their relationship builds from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial

Bucky drank with his friends at the bar on the last day of Fleet Week. The whole week was filled with drinks, parties and sex. This was probably the only great thing about being in the Navy he thought. They got free rounds and countless women; life was great.  
      Entering quietly, a tall blond walked into the bar and sat next to Bucky. He didn't notice him, so he tapped his shoulder and he turned his head, "yeah?"  
      The faint insolence in Bucky's voice made him uncomfortable, "are you James Barnes?"  
      He smiled, "depends who I'm talking to."  
      "I'm Steve and I was recently recruited to your crew and I was told you're the head of it?"  
      He laughed, "I am. I wasn't told we were getting recruits though."  
      "It was last minute."  
      "That's the American Naval Force for you." He smiled and threw back his drink and waved for another, "what department are you in?"  
      "Maintenance. The whole 'toilet-paper-getting-ship-cleaning' campaign."  
      They both laughed until Bucky realized he didn't finish his story about the injured dog, the priest and the homeless guy (which he swore it actually happened) and introduced Steve to his crew, "this is, uh," he looked at him.  
      "Steve."  
      "Steve. This is Steve the maintenance guy."  
      They all drunkenly waved and laughed about the limping dog. "You drink?"  
      Steve straightened his back, "just a whiskey."  
      He looked at him, "I'll get you tequila."  
      Steve laughed and accepted the drink. He took a sip and scrunched his face. Bucky stared at him and laughed. He hugged him from the side, "welcome to the crew. And it's Bucky, by the way."

The next morning, the crew woke up bright and early and boarded the sub. They waved their families goodbye and they were sent off. Bucky commanded his crew to get to their stations and get to work. They fumbled through the small watercraft and he watched as they worked their magic. He forgot Steve was part of the crew and jumped when he seen him standing behind him. "Jesus christ. Don't you have a toilet to clean or something?"  
      "Nope, did it all. Except your section of the boat, which I was told to await your orders."  
      Bucky looked down on the burly blond, even though they were about the same height. "Why aren't you part of my crew?"  
      Steve furrowed his brows, "I'm sorry?"  
      "Why aren't you in defense? Or nuke deployment? Or even a coordinator? Why are you a fucking maintenance guy? You have way too much to offer to be cleaning a boat."  
      Steve smiled and shrugged, "all of those positions are booked, so here we are."  
      Bucky sighed, "well, follow me."  
  
Inside his quarters were books, an illuminated map and dozens of papers stained with 'confidential'. Steve looked around and admired the rustic metallic interior decorated with reds, whites, and blues. Bucky closed the door, "how long will this take?"  
      Steve pretended to estimate a time, "maybe an hour."  
      "Wow," Bucky sighed. "Do what you have to do, and don't look at my work."  
      "Sounds easy enough."  
      Bucky sat at his table and Steve got to work. He dusted and cleaned and moved things where he thought they belonged. He slowly worked his way towards Bucky, who was too caught up in his work to even notice. He peeked over his shoulder, and Bucky noticed.  
      In an instant, faster than Steve can comprehend, Bucky swung off his chair and shoved him against the wall. "Who are you and who do you work for?"  
      Steve's heart raced under the push of his arm, "I - I, uh, I'm just a maintenance guy, sir."  
     "Who do you work for?!"  
     "I swear I'm only maintenance!"  
      Bucky stared piercingly in his crystal blue eyes, then slowly let him down. "I told you not to look at my confidential work."  
      Steve fixed his shirt and swallowed hard, "I'm sorry sir. I guess I got curious."  
      "Well stop being curious and do your job."  
      Steve continued to work, being careful enough not to even look in his way. "It's natural to be curious."  
      "What?"  
      "You can't blame anyone for being curious. It's natural to wonder what things are like."  
      Bucky looked up at him, "things like what?"  
      "Maintenance. All sorts of life's experiences. Haven't you ever wondered what things you've never done feels like?"  
      "I've done a lot in my life."  
      "But there's still a lot you haven't done."  
      Bucky smiled and looked over his shoulder, "like what? Name me something."  
      "Have you ever drank sea water?"  
      Bucky looked at him, "what?"  
      "Seawater? Ever drink it?"  
      He laughed and sat back. He turned his chair and faced him, "can't say that I have."  
      "Well it tastes awful."  
      They both laughed, "Why in god’s name did you drink seawater?."  
      "It's embarrassing. It was either that or, well, never mind."  
      "What? Tell me."  
      Steve stopped and sat on Bucky's desk. "It's nothing, just an inside joke between me and my asshole friends."  
      "Come on! How embarrassing can it be?"  
      Steve looked at him and sighed, "I had to choose between drinking seawater, and, well," he looked at the map, "kiss a guy."  
      Bucky's smile died slowly as he realized he wasn't kidding.  
      Steve looked at the floor and pursed his lips. "Honestly, I don't see the big fuss with kissing a guy -"  
      "It's unnatural for the same sex to be in love."  
      "I'm not sure that's a fact. I mean, do you ever see someone and decide you're madly in love? Or does it just happen?"  
      Bucky nodded his head, "I actually don't care who you love, just keep it out of my sight."  
      Steve scoffed, "what would you do if you had to choose between seawater or a guy? Seawater can kill you."  
      Bucky smiled, "under what circumstances would I have to choose one or the other?"  
      Steve laughed, "just answer it."  
      He thought for a second and sighed, "I dunno, probably kiss the guy. I value my life more than my social status."  
      Steve laughed, "I've asked a lot of people and they'd rather commit suicide."  
      "That's pretty fucking stupid."  
      "Some people only live for social status; they don't have a real purpose for living."  
      Bucky nodded as the room grew silent. He flipped the file closed and Steve got closer.  
      "Commander, do you have a purpose in life?"  
      "I don't think you ever know your purpose until you're on your deathbed."  
      "Do you live for social status, sir?"  
      Bucky raised a brow at him and sternly reacted, "if you are suggesting I'm gay you're very wrong."  
      Steve laughed, "I'm not suggesting anything. I'm only asking if you ever get curious."  
      Bucky only looked at him and leaned back as Steve's hands held onto the armrests of his chair and leaned closer. Those eyes were going to be the death of him. He's seen many blue eyes in his life but holy shit these were something different. They were full of life and they were playful and just downright beautiful. Jesus fucking Christ.  
      "Tell me, commander," he whispered deeply, "do you ever get curious?"  
      Bucky tried to keep his austere look but he was melting under him. He forced a nod, "I'm not gay." His voice shook as he tried not to look at those lips that were going to get him in so much trouble. Those same lips curled into a smile, "I didn't say that you were."  
      Bucky bit his lip and arched his back, making his entire body submit to the goddamn maintenance man. He felt like Steve controlled him entirely; he had no control over himself and he was frustrated, and to Steve's liking, it showed.  
      Steve slowly pushed his lips against Bucky's, and he pulled him in closer. His hand curled around his neck and his thumb traced his jaw and they parted. Steve smiled, "well now I know how that feels."  
      Bucky was emotionless. His mind was flooded with everything; the booze, the drugs, the goddamn women that just seemed to know how to fuck so well you can't forget it. He loved the feel of their bodies but holy hell the feel of his lips were a million times better. He wanted more.  
      His hand pulled him in again and their kiss was deeper than before. He hummed against his lips and his hands wandered across his chest and pulled him by his shirt.  
      Steve lost balance and he tried to stop himself by pushing his knee against the chair, but fell into his lap. They smiled and resumed their sin.  
      Steve kissed his neck and smiled against his skin when a moan escaped his lips.  
      Everything seemed to move in slo-mo; hands dragging down places they shouldn't be, lips being pushed against hot skin sleeked with sweat. It was intense and poisoning. They were drunk off each other and Steve didn't intend on stopping.  
      However Bucky pushed him off, "stop."  
      "Bucky?"  
      "No," he pushed him off and stood up, "I need you to leave."  
      Steve only looked at him. His heart grew heavy, "but I thought... I thought you liked it."  
      He scoffed and pointed to his door, "I need to you leave. You can't," he looked around trying to find an excuse, "you can't just come in here and seduce me like a fucking mermaid or a goddamn sea witch who do you think you are?"  
      Steve laughed, "a sea witch?"  
      Bucky tried not to smile but he couldn't help it. Steve's laugh was contagious. God damn him.  
      Bucky sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Steve walked closer to him, "what's wrong?"  
      "I can't do that with you. You know what would happen to us if anyone seen us?"  
      Steve's hands snaked around his hips and he pulled him in. He smiled when Bucky dropped his head to one side. God he felt like kicking this guy in the groin to leave him alone but he was under his spell.  
      "No one will do anything," he began to whisper, "because no one will see us." He held his cheek in the palm of his hand, "we could be each other's secret."  
      His emphasis on secret sent chills down Bucky's spine. Steve's hand slowly moved down his waist to his hips and met his hard on and Bucky tilted his head back. Steve smiled and bit the curve of his neck. Bucky grabbed onto his shirt and forcefully unbuttoned it as he moved his head, pushing Steve's lips to his cheek. Their foreheads pushed against each other; the room seemed to rise in temperature.  
      Steve's shirt was pulled off and dropped on the table. They kissed again, and in between each kiss they breathed heavily against their mouths. Steve took off his tank top and helped Bucky take off his.  
      Bucky pushed Steve against his table and lied him down. He hovered over him, leaving sloppy kisses and breathy praises. "Bucky," Steve whispered.  
      "Mmm?"  
      He smiled, "you wouldn't happen to have a condom in your desk would you?"  
      He stopped and looked up at him. He gave him a coy smirk, "I don't need one."  
      "What? Your dick is nonstick? Emits cum from it's sides?"  
      Bucky laughed and pulled him up and he met his lips, "get on your knees."  
      Steve licked his lips and dropped to his knees. He eagerly unbuttoned his pants and revealed his throbbing cock. Bucky ran his fingers through that golden blond hair and pulled. Steve moaned and slowly pulled down his underwear.  
      He held him in his hand licked the tip, making Bucky moan and pull harder at his hair. He licked up the whole length, "mmm sergeant -"  
      He pulled at his hair even harder, making Steve lose his breath. "I'm your commanding officer," he managed to breathe out.  
      "Then command me."  
      Bucky's other hand held onto Steve's cheek, forcing his mouth open. He looked into those cursed eyes and seen an expendable man, but said man wants it to be like that. Bucky didn't.  
      "How often can I see you," he let go of him.  
      Steve jerked his jaw right to left, "as many times as you want to see me, commanding officer. I adapt fairly easy, if that's what you're trying to ask."  
      Bucky pulled the blond again, getting a lusty grunt, "I want you to fuck me like it's the last time you're gonna see me."  
      Steve smiled, "you don't have to worry about that." He opened his mouth and took his whole length in his mouth.  
      "Fuck," Bucky said, being louder than he wanted to be. His goddamn mouth is like heaven. His whole self is amazing. Is there anything this guy can't do?  
      His cock hit the back of Steve's throat and he gagged. Spit and precum dripped out of his mouth as he continued. He pulled away, "commander, I need to to fuck my mouth. Hard."  
      Bucky smirked, and he shoved Steve against the table. He hit his head but it was okay. His commanding officer is allowed to do whatever he wants to him. He is his property now.  
      Bucky leaned over him, his hands pushed against the table, and forced his cock in his mouth. He thrusted into his mouth and Steve took it. Every thrust got Steve gagging and spitting. He felt like he was choking but instead of trying to fix it, he shoved his hand down his pants and jerked off.  
      Bucky was moaning like it hurt. Hell, it probably did, but he loved every second of it. His desk jerked back as he fucked his mouth harder. Steve's stomach twisted up and he involuntarily brought his legs up. His whole body twitched under his commander. Tears streamed down his cheeks and just as he came, Bucky's cock stayed at the back of his throat. Everything paused.  
      Steve felt Bucky's cum run down his throat, and Bucky's groan was long and deep. He felt the faint vibrations in the back of his throat. He pulled out and gave Steve to breathe out his climax.  
      He was louder and shameless; Bucky could get drunk off this. He breathed heavily and gasped for air, face red and sweaty. His body shut down and he leaned back against the table. He looked up at Bucky, who looked like he just fucked the president's wife in the ass. He held a smirk against one side of his lips and he braced against the wall, looking exactly like Steve.  
      Bucky raised his finger, "this doesn't make me gay."  
      Steve laughed, "what?"  
      "You seduced me."  
      Steve stood up shakily and put on his clothes, "well you did fuck me. That's a little gay."  
      "No, no no no. What's a man supposed to do when you have his dick in your hand?"  
      "Not fuck me?" Steve laughed and buttoned up his shirt. He wiped his face clean of any traces of the incident. "You're gay, and that's fine it's -"  
      "No," he waved his finger and smiled as he put on his pants, "no. I am not gay and I am not attracted to you and this only happened because you seduced me."  
      Steve smiled and nodded, "alrighty, captain."  
      "This didn't happen."  
      Steve grabbed his stuff and looked back at him before leaving, "just a reminder; I do have them, in my bag. But you gotta come to the bathroom."  
      Bucky shook his head and threw a book at him, "no, fuck you, go wash a window or something. But don't open it."  
      Steve laughed and walked out, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts, which are kind of pointless to explain, since you could imagine what they were about.


	2. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.

Steve sat in the cold metal chair. It sent chills up his spine as he stared out the window. It was midnight probably, and the window carried nothing but black and almost-black blue. He seen his reflection as well as the whole ship behind him. Everyone else was sleeping, except for a few who were driving the ship. It was quiet. 

He left his trance when he seen a familiar silhouette behind him, but neither cared the other was there. After a few moments and a subtle stretch from the man behind him, he finally spoke. "Rogers, I need to see you in my office."

Responding, he lazily turned and stood, then followed him to his office. They walked in and Bucky locked the door behind him. Steve was too tired to even know what was happening, not until Bucky stood in front of him and pushed him against the door. Steve definitely was awake now. 

He pushed his lips roughly against his and Steve kissed him back confused. Bucky pulled away and stared at him, "fuck you, man."

Steve smiled as they kissed again, this time moaning against each other. Their kisses were sloppy and just downright gross, but they were in love, so it was okay. 

Bucky's lips ran down his jaw, to his neck. He forcefully pulled Steve's collar down his shoulder, busting a few seams, and bit the crook of his neck. 

Steve bit his lip to keep quiet, but his moan escaped his mouth. "Shut up," Bucky whispered heavily. 

He pulled him away from the door and pushed him against his table. 

Steve smirked as he unbuttoned his uniform. He lied on the table and Bucky stood between his thighs. His hands ran up his legs to his hips, where he held it so tight, it was bound to leave bruises. He braced his forehead against his and breathed against Steve's mouth. "I hate you," he whispered. 

Steve laughed and put his hands on Bucky's shoulders, "I know."

His smile faded as he stood back up slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Steve sat up, "what's wrong?"

He looked at him with a look of genuine discontent, "this." He looked around the office, "all of this is wrong."

Steve stood up and smiled, "so? Don't you like all of this?"

Bucky stared at him, "I don't know."

"Yes you do. You like this," he walked closer to him and held his hand, "you like me, and I like you."

Bucky looked down on his hands, "that's not what god -"

"Stop that!" Steve held him tighter, "if this isn't what god intended, two people being in love, then why are we in love? Why would we exist if we were bound for hell? How can god set people up for failure and tell them to love him? This is exactly what god intended."

He choked back his tears and fell into Steve's arms. He hugged him tightly and closed his eyes. Steve's arms felt like home; lying in bed after a long trip away. He felt safe wrapped around him. No one could hurt them here. This was their safe haven. 

"Steven?"

"Yeah?"

He swallowed hard and hugged tighter, "I hate you."

Steve smiled, "I know."

 

Weeks went by and they continued their game; hot make out sessions and heavy touching, but going no further than that. It was secretive and they kept it real quiet, and they didn't keep it in the office. It was in the kitchen, the bathroom, sleeping quarters, Bucky even kicked the missile defense crew out of the room. They had quite the relationship. But the only thing about that was the fact that it was rare. 

He didn't call Steve in many times. Sometimes, it'd be months since their last rendezvous, so Steve would wait patiently, because he knew Bucky needed time before anything really happened. 

      But sometimes, Bucky just needed a push.

Steve slowly peeked into his office. He was sitting there, head down, writing something. He seemed agitated. "James?"

He looked up and smiled, "I told you to call me Bucky."

He walked into the room and slowly closed the door behind him. Bucky resumed his writing and rubbed his temples.

      "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a headache."

Steve sat on his desk, "do you know what the best cure for a headache is?"

Bucky raised a brow and sat back, "sleep?"

Steve stood up and pushed his chair back. He leaned his arm on the arm rest and with the other, he ran his hand down his chest. Bucky shivered under his touch; he felt his cold fingertips through his uniform. 

Steve softly kissed the corner of his mouth as he slipped his hand in his pants. Bucky breathed in sharply, unconsciously moving his hips up. 

Steve's lips dragged across his jaw, then to his neck. He left trails of red down his neck to his clavicle. He braced his head against the crook of his neck and slowly rubbed his stiffening cock. 

Bucky's head rolled back with his eyes shut and he grabbed the armrests tightly. He bit his lip and moaned behind his teeth. Steve felt the vibration in his neck and breathed out a laugh. He raised his head and pushed his forehead against his'. Steve bit Bucky's lower lip and smiled. 

Bucky's stomach twisted in knots. Steve sat on his lap, knees on either side, still rubbing him right. 

His eyes were tightly shut and his body was tense. Steve left traces of his lips over his mouth to his jaw. Bucky moaned deeply as he came. Steve smirked, and his silent laugh swept across his mouth. 

Bucky ran his fingers through his long hair and sighed. "I hate you."

He laughed, "I know." He softly kissed his lips, "still have a headache?"

"Not really." He lifted Steve off and stood up; he lied him on the table, "I'm gonna need more than that for my headache."

Steve settled himself on his back. He threw the book and pencil on the floor and held Bucky back when he tried to kiss him. "Well, we're gonna need more than what we have."

"Which is what?"

"Nothing." Steve giggled, "we have nothing and that's the issue. However," he drew his finger across his chest, "give me a few minutes and I can get what we need."

Bucky blinked at him, "like a condom?"

He scoffed, "um, not necessarily. A condom in a ship of men would reap havoc." He put his hands behind his head, "more like oil, or Vaseline."

"Sounds painful."

"Not unless you put enough." He smiled and bopped his nose, "it's in my bag. I'll go get it."

He sat up and walked through the door, not leaving without a coy smile followed by a wink. Bucky smiled bashfully, and Steve was off. 

A little over than ten minutes passed, and Bucky began to wonder what took him so long. Before he could open the door, Steve popped in, "calm yourself, eager beaver. I'm here."

"You took so long I thought something happened."

"Nope." He pulled out a small tub of Vaseline from his pocket, "I'm pretty sure this is enough for one." 

Bucky took it from his hand and opened it. He looked at the contents inside, "so I just put this on my -"

The door swung open - "hands?"

Steve turned around and it was a short guy with black hair slicked back and weirdly shaped facial hair. Not sure how he did it, but it looked good. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Only a dry-hand-cure tutorial," Steve intercepted. 

The man looked at Steve and Bucky suspiciously, "riiight. Anyways, Barton's jerking off in the bathroom and he won't get out."

Steve laughed, "how long has he been in there?"

"Long enough to drown in his own semen. Commander, can you get him out?"

"I will," Steve blurted out. Both of them looked at him. "What? This isn't the first time I was on a ship with Barton and he hid himself in the bathroom. Why do you think he's been moved to four different ships?"

The guy shrugged and left, leaving the two to argue. "So you're just gonna leave me?"

Steve closed the door, "fine, not without a quickie." He dropped to his knees and unbuttoned his pants. Bucky tangled his fingers through his hair, holding his head in place. Steve pulled out his confused semi-soft dick from his underwear and licked the tip. 

Bucky pulled at his hair and smiled. His tongue was soft and warm; his lips wrapped around him like silk. God, he's talented. 

He moaned as he took him all in, his cock threatening to hit his throat. One hand held onto his hip to better position himself. The other held onto his shaft as he slowly moved his lips. He pulled his lips off his throbbing cock and began jerking him off. 

Bucky tightened his grip on his hair, making Steve wince, but he didn't stop. He liked the pain, it meant he was doing something right. 

As Bucky muttered profanity under his breath, Steve took him in deeper. He slowly hit the back of his throat, making Steve's gags short and frustrated. He felt his precum drip down his tongue, so he moved faster. 

Bucky grunted louder than he should, so Steve looked up at him, "shut up."

Bucky grabbed Steve by the jaw and shook him. He pulled his hair back and looked him straight in the eye, "I'm your commander; don't tell me what to do." He let go and let Steve continue, "well, commander, get any louder and we'd both be dead."

Bucky smiled, "hurry up, then. Barton's waiting for you."

He smiled and put his cock back in his mouth. He continued the fellatio until Bucky whined. Steve couldn't help but to look up at that mess. His brain was all over the place and Steve loved every second of it. 

Bucky pulled his hair once more, and his cum filled Steve's jaw almost instantly. 

Steve gagged and spit it out, "next time warn me." He wiped it off his mouth with his sleeve. 

"Don't people like you swallow it?"

Steve looked up at him perplexed. He stood up, "what do you mean people like me? You're like me."

"No, I'm not." Bucky pulled up his pants, "it's not gay unless I give you a blowjob."

Steve stared at him for a while, and he stared back. "What?"

"I will never suck your dick, nor have sex with you."

"But you were just about to!"

"No, you were about to have sex with me. I wasn't gonna have sex -"

"What does that even mean?!"

Bucky dropped his head to one shoulder, "if you fuck me, you're gay. If I fuck you, I'm gay."

Steve looked at him and laughed, "you're such a dick."

"I'm not gay."

"Okay, commander, you're not gay."

"You said that sarcastically."

Steve opened the door and smiled, "I have to go see Barton and fix his issue."

"I'm not gay!"

"And I didn't just give you a blowjob."

 

Steve got to the bathroom and there was a crowd. The guy from earlier was there, standing next to a guy with big glasses and curly hair. Steve thought they'd make a cute couple. He knocked on the door, "Clint, you gotta come out."

"No."

"People have to use the bathroom, Clint. I understand you're away from your partner for a long time but other people have to jerk off too."

"They have their sleeping bunks."

"So do you."

"I got here first."

Steve rolled his eyes, "for the love of god." He told the crowd to leave so he can have a quiet time with Clint, because he knew he wasn't jerking off in there, nor did he have a bad stomach. After the crew left, Steve rested his head on the door, "Clint, I know you miss her, but come on. Do you think she's doing this right now?"

Clint slowly opened he door. His eyes were red and his cheeks carried lines that shone under the dim, yellowing lights, "she doesn't have many emotions, Steve."

Steve smiled, "probably true, but she's not balling her eyes out in a bathroom."

"She has no tears."

"Clint," Steve looked at him, "that's also probably true, but she's a human, Clint. She has feelings, that's why she's in a relationship with you. You're such a dork and she loves it."

Clint laughed and wiped his face, "she does love my dorkiness."

"So remind her that you're a dork and not an emotional guy. Show your emotions when you need them. You're in a war, and so is she."

He nodded and got out of the bathroom. Before he left, he turned to him, "wait." He walked back in the bathroom and picked up a racy picture of his girlfriend, "almost forgot this. Give me some credit; I wasn't crying the whole time."

Steve shook his head and kicked him out, then the crowd returned and raced to the bathroom. 

"There are twenty bathrooms on this ship, what makes this one so important?"

The curly haired guy leaned on the table, "this bathroom is the biggest."

"They're all the same size."

"No, they're not," he scoffed. "This one is approximately three and a half inches bigger; longer not wider."

"Actually it's three and a quarter inch longer," the other felt compelled to say. 

"It's half."

He rolled his eyes, and before he could say anything, Steve jumped in because those nerds arguing was the last thing he wanted to hear, "why does it matter if it's longer? Are you exercising or something?"

"Exercising our right."

The curly haired guy nudged him and gave him a look he's seen many times before; he even made that look before. Then it clicked; these two losers _are_ together. 

Steve nodded, hiding his smirk because he's just so clever. "Don't worry; I know."

They looked at him for a second, then he sighed, "good. I thought we were in some deep shit. I'm Bruce, by the way."

"You try to hide it and then when someone claims they're with us you just let it all go as if you know him what the fuck."

Bruce looked at him, "that's Tony. Be jealous; he's all mine," he said sarcastically. "Lucky, aren't I?"

"Very, actually," Tony added. "I'm a great companion; I have the best booze, drugs, and the better square footage radar."

"Yeah a real hoot. You're Steve, right?"

"Bucky's bitch?"

Steve scoffed, "if anyone is anyone's bitch, he's mine."

Tony laughed, "yeah, I bet."

"Is it obvious?"

"Only to other gays. Like a gaydar or something. The straights just think you and him are just really close friends."

Bruce smiled, "they actually asked me if you guys were brothers."

Steve laughed, "they tend to be like that but you can't blame them; all of this is taboo."

"Not sure why, just two dudes being in love."

Steve nodded, "it goes against their books."

"The books written by people claiming they were speaking to a higher being? Later being altered to fit the times? Right, get me on that train real quick." Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. 

Steve sat on the floor and braced himself on the cabinet, "and the second someone finds out the world has to end."

"That's why you don't let anyone find out."

Bruce nodded, "yeah, we've been together for three years."

"Three and a half."

"Stop that."

Steve's eyes grew wide, "how did you guys keep it a secret for so long?"

They both looked at each other and smiled, "neighbors. We live next to each other -"

"That's what everyone thinks," Tony added. 

"But we actually live together."

Steve smiled; that's genius. "So what about dates?"

"We eat them."

"We don't need to hold hands in public. We don't even need to eat romantic dinners by the bay or slow dance on a boat. Those things don't reveal how much you love each other."

"Slow dances to fast paced songs -"

"Romantic dinners while watching the game, being neighbors, doing neighborly things -"

"Like going to war together." 

Bruce smiled bashfully, "because nothing is more romantic than dying together."

"You don't need to do 'normal' couple things. We're far from normal; we're different, so we don't ever feel like we have to be normal. Normal's overrated."

Steve thought about it, and they were right. That's what he was going to do with Bucky. He wasn't originally supposed to fall in love with him, nor was he. That wasn't part of the job. 

The guy walked out of the bathroom and stared at them, then walked away. "I'll kick his ass."

"No, you're not Tony. You're short."

"That doesn't mean I'm not full of rage."

They laughed for a while, then Clint walked in, "Tony, Bruce, you're needed in the kitchen."

"What for?"

Clint looked at Tony with an offended look, "to do your goddamn job."

Bruce hushed him before he could say anything and he led them out of the room. Steve got up but his heart fell heavy; he fucked up. 

 

Bucky walked around the ship, making sure everyone was doing their job correctly. They were only ten minutes away from resurfacing, and it needed to go as smoothly as possible. 

Steve hovered over someones head, looking out the window. Bucky gave the order and the deep blue slowly became lighter and lighter. Then, the break of the water. They surfaced quick, and it was evening. The sun had just gone down, so the sky had a faded line of orange and yellow. It was beautiful. 

The crew walked off and Steve followed. He felt a jerk on his arm; "wait for me, Rogers, I need to speak with you."

Bucky's face was blank, he held no emotion, which sent Steve's thoughts spiraling out of control. 

Almost an hour passed and Steve was left standing on the boardwalk, arms on the railing, eyes admiring the water. It was serene. He hadn't seen the water this peaceful in a long time. There was a slight breeze that occasionally sent him shivering, but his back got a violent chill as a familiar hand slowly reached for him. He turned and it was Bucky. 

He leaned against the railing next to him and stared out into the water, not saying a word. It was silent, but far from awkward. Their presence was perfect; nothing needed to be said or done, because all of this was perfect.

"What did you say before? About being in love and god's intention?" Bucky knew exactly what he said and he could recite it back to him word for word, backwards, and in a different language. That one line rang in his head ever since he said it. It stuck with him like a tattoo (one he wanted to keep, of course). 

Steve bowed his head, "God created a partner for every single human on this planet, and we happened to be in the right place, but the wrong time."

"Wrong time," Bucky repeated. He looked back into the water. The dim city lights made it sparkle like silver glitter against black silk. "God said he created a partner for everyone, but he banned some of them from loving them."

"Yeah, god was a bit tipsy when he declared that," Steve joked. Bucky didn't find it very funny.

"Why does it feel so wrong?"

"Because we're taught that it's wrong. It never had to be wrong, it's not like we chose this."

Bucky nodded. Steve seen a tear bead up in the corner of his eye, so he turned his head to face him and wiped it away with his thumb. 

Bucky held Steve's hand on his cheek, "Steven?"

Steve knew exactly what he was going to say, but went with it, "yeah?"

Bucky smiled and kissed his palm, "I love you."

Steve's heart fell harder than before. He wasn't sure what to say, so he said the first thing on his mind, "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember; this is the 1940's, so everything was done with God in mind.  
> Also, a disclaimer and a small spoiler; you're gonna hate the next two chapters.  
> And you're gonna hate me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Infatuation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I fucked up the tags a bit and changed a few. It's the same story so don't even worry about it

Bucky woke up to the smell of eggs and tea. He slowly woke the rest of his body up, stretching underneath the covers. His arms and legs hung out, exposed, and the light blanket bunched up on his chest. He hadn't gotten this amount of good sleep in such a long time.   
      He slowly rose off the bed and looked around. The bedroom was a mess. Clothes were everywhere and it held a faint smell of sex, even though sex didn't necessarily happen.   
      He stood up and dragged his feet across the wooden floors into the kitchen, where his Steve was, cooking in his underwear. He lazily smiled at the sight; he had such a great ass.   
      He turned around, "mornin' Buck."  
      He rubbed his eyes, "mornin' Steve." He dropped himself in the chair, "what time is it?"  
      Steve resumed his eggs, "late. Almost eleven in the morning. You were supposed to wake up at nine, like a normal person."  
      He laughed, "well, I didn't really get a full night's sleep."  
      "And who's fault is that?"  
      "Yours!"  
      Steve scoffed and looked at him offendedly, "me?"  
      "Yeah, you wouldn't leave my dick alone."  
      "Well, in my defense, it was poking my ass."  
      Bucky stood up and wrapped his arms around his waist. He leaned his head on his shoulder and watched his hands move like they were orchestrated. He hugged him tightly and kissed his neck.   
      Steve finished up and, with Bucky on his back, moved the eggs from the pan to a plate and put the spatula in the sink. His hands fell on top of his and he turned around to face him, allowing his hands to trace his arms. He smiled sweetly and Bucky slowly pulled him in for a kiss. He smiled against his mouth and pushed him away slightly, "what about breakfast?"  
      Bucky looked up and down Steve's body, admiring every curve. He put his lips against Steve's neck and placed little kisses, "I think I want dessert first."  
      Steve giggled as he arched his back, welcoming Bucky's lips, which lightly pulled their way down his neck, to his shoulder, to his chest. He bit his chest a few times, leading to his nipple. His kisses left wet spots, and those wet spots got cold with the slightest wind, making Steve shiver under him.   
      He came back up to his pink lips. His breath tasted awful, but it was worth it.  
      Steve laced his fingers in Bucky's long locks of hair and braced his forehead against his. For a moment, with their eyes closed and their bodies so close they touched with every breath, they were motionless. Only breathing each other's breath, they fell even more in love. Great.  
      Bucky grabbed onto Steve's ass and lifted him on the counter. Steve laughed lightly and they resumed falling in love.   
      With Bucky between his thighs, breakfast in the air, Steve felt more at home than he did when he first stepped ff that underwater deathtrap. Bucky's arms that wrapped around him were his walls, his softly beating heart was the music, and his lips were those perfect touches, the ones you couldn't quite put your finger on, but they were there and they were perfect. He was beautiful so late in the morning, but he was starving, "Bucky, I need food."  
      He nuzzled his neck and smiled, "I'm starving." He pried himself away from him and took the plate.   
      They both sat down, one plate of eggs in the middle, accompanied by a kettle of tea and two thirsty glasses on the ends. They picked up their forks and before Steve could get any egg on his, Bucky held his own fork in front of him. He leaned forward and Bucky helped him get the whole thing in his mouth, which resulted in a drool-y tabletop and soft laughter.   
      Bucky leaned his head on his hand, "everything you do is beautiful, and I'm frustrated because I don't understand how." Steve blushed and smiled bashfully. "Even when you drool on the table trying to fit a too-big-piece of food in your mouth. How do you do it?"  
      "Well, when you're in love," he leaned over the table and pulled Bucky's little strand of hair that was out of place, "anything your partner does is perfect, but that's only in the beginning of the relationship."  
      "What do you mean?"  
      He smiled, but it was more broken than not, "as time passes, everything your partner does isn't perfect anymore. You start to find flaws, secrets, that they desperately needed to hide from you. And when that happens, it's either fight or flight."  
      Bucky looked at him for a while. The apartment was silent; "that was oddly specific."  
      He left his depressive trance, "well, I may have seen it happen before to someone else. I guess it isn't a big deal."  
      "I think it is."  
      Steve raised a brow, "what makes you say that?"  
      "It is a big deal; you don't think we'll work out, and that's a big deal." He held on to his hand and squeezed tightly, "I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and I need you to be confident that we'll grow old together."  
      Steve smirked and lied his hand on top of his. He rubbed his finger lightly over his protruding vein on his hand and sighed, "I want to be with you forever, but we'll never see the light at the end of the tunnel. We may die before our love would be accepted -"  
      "We don't need it to be. That's what you said." He brought his hand to his lips, "we don't have to be accepted to be in love. And as far as I can tell, we were born to be together."  
      Steve wiped the stray tear from the corner of his eye and smiled, "I'm still hungry."  
       That evening, they went out just to get out. They walked all over the place, marveling at things they've already seen. They didn't walk too close, even though they wanted to so badly.   
      Right before sunset, Steve heard his name being called. He turned around, "Clint?"  
      Clint walked up to them, hand in hand with a gorgeous, deadly-looking redhead. "Steve, James, this is my former girlfriend, now fiancé Natasha." He smile was too big not to react the same way.   
      It was uncommon for women to shake a man's hand, but she held out her hand as if she had to. "Don't be babies, shake my hand," she winked.  
      They both did, and then quiet. "So where'd you two meet?"  
      "On the job, actually," Nat answered. "I was a trainer. I was training him, and right before he was sent to war, he asked me to be with him."  
      "Not even a few months later and we're getting married."  
      “Moving a little fast, I would say,” Bucky joked.  
      "He's all about being fast," Natasha laughed.   
      He rolled his eyes, "didn't happen. Ever. And it was great seeing you guys again, not giving me shit, but we have a dance to get to."  
      They both waved and parted ways. Steve turned around and nudged Bucky's arm. He turned and seen it. The sun was setting on the ocean; the orange and yellow stained the blackish blue water. It glittered brightly, just like the night they surfaced. They both stared out in the horizon. Bucky's hand touched Steve's hand and for a second, they hooked their fingers together, but quickly realized and swiped their hands away. They looked over their shoulder; no one was there to see it.   
      Bucky sighed, "I can't even romantically watch the sun set with you."  
      Steve nodded, "it's gonna be fine. Let's just go somewhere."  
  
After their long walk, they stumbled inside the house, laughing and a little tipsy, but not too drunk; they were able to walk home with no injuries. They only had two glasses of whiskey, but it felt like a whole bottle. They laughed as they tripped over themselves and knocked things over.   
      Steve fell onto the couch and Bucky fell on the floor. They mindlessly laughed, then giggled. They stared at the ceiling and sighed. "Is there room on the couch?"  
      "Yeah, come on up."  
      He groaned as he crawled up the side of the couch. There was no room on the couch. He plopped on top of Steve and they laughed. He buried his head in his neck and sighed.   
      Steve bit his lip at the touch of Bucky's stubble on his neck. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and shifted his hips. Bucky breathed heavily when his crotch rubbed against his.   
      Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, and he jerked his hips. Bucky moaned against his skin. "Stop," he heavily whispered, not meaning it at all.   
      Steve jerked his hips again and Bucky hissed at him, "if you don't stop, I'll -"  
      "You'll what?" Bucky lifted his head and looked at him. His icy blue eyes stared back at him innocently, and they were convincing. "Or I'll hurt you."  
      Steve just blinked at him, and jerked his hips again. Bucky's mouth dropped open and his leg twitched; his pre cum almost soaked through his pants. "I said stop."  
      "Fine." Steve looked him straight in the eye and shoved his hand down his pants.   
      Bucky dropped his head on his shoulder and moaned. He slowly dragged his hips against his hand, breathing profanity against Steve's pale skin. Steve smiled as he rubbed him down.   
      Bucky tried not to cum, but he was intoxicating. He held onto Steve's hips and rolled off the couch. He landed on his back, but rolled back on top of Steve, who just stared at him; "what the fuck was that man?"  
      Bucky smirked and pulled his hand out of his pants. He flipped Steve on his stomach and pushed him against the floor, "I think you forgot, that I'm your commander."  
      Steve giggled, "damn, I fucked up."  
      Bucky lowered his head next to Steve's and whispered in his ear, "you've been so bad lately."  
      "Punish me."  
      He smiled and grabbed Steve's waistband. He pulled down his pants and kissed the curve of his back. Steve quietly moaned at the soft touch of his lips. Bucky pulled off his shirt and pushed Steve's up to help him take it off. He lined his kisses down, from the center of his shoulders, all the way down. "You're so beautiful," he breathed over him.   
      Steve loved every second of this. He loved how aggressive Bucky could get, and how easy it was to bring him down. He loved that he could shove him against a wall and bite his skin until he bleeds, and leave soft kisses on that same skin. He was perfect.   
      Bucky pulled out a condom from his pocket and dropped his pants. He kicked it off and Steve turned around, "you had one in your pocket?"  
      "I kinda figured we were gonna go at it sometime, so why not tonight." He rolled it on and and lied on top of him, "are you sure this won't hurt?"  
      Steve pushed him off and turned under him, now facing him, "if it hurt and I didn't like it I wouldn't be under you." Bucky’s forehead rested on his, and he continued, "I'm going to be fine. It's going to be okay."  
      Bucky smiled and nodded, and he propped himself with one arm, and his other hand positioned him at his entrance. Steve's hands roamed across his chest, taking in every detail, until they finally rested on his shoulders.   
      Bucky slid himself inside him, excruciatingly slow, and Steve sighed. He winced for a second, trying to get used to it after months of not doing it, and smiled, "you could go a little faster."  
      "I don't want to hurt you."  
      He held his cheek in his hand, "you won't."  
      Bucky nodded and moved faster. He went all the way in and groaned, making Steve giggle. He collapsed on top of him and pulled out, then pushed in harder and faster. His mouth hung open, his moan emitting from the bottom of his throat.   
      Steve ran his fingers through his hot hair. He breathed heavily with each thrust that got harder and harder. His legs came up involuntarily and pulled Bucky's hips, rolling with his as he arched his back.   
      Sweat began to run down Bucky's face as he came closer to cumming. His whole body tensed up and his hard cock throbbed; he moaned so loud, Steve thought he was going to scream, so he covered his mouth with his hand.   
      Steve's cock was in between their stomachs, rubbing against them fast. He held Bucky's mouth tightly and he rolled his head back. Bucky swatted his hand away and roughly shoved his lips on his vulnerable neck. His teeth left marks in the shape of his mouth, and surely was bound to bruise.   
      Just as Bucky gave his last sloppy kiss, he came and groaned hoarsely. Steve came right after, but he was less vocal about it and moaned behind his teeth.   
      Bucky rolled off of him and lied on his back. He was red faced and sweaty and Steve was the same. They panted and tried to catch their breath, rubbing the sweat from their faces.   
      Bucky stared blankly at the ceiling. He didn't know how to feel. He loved it, but felt guilty doing it. He looked at Steve to see how he felt.   
      That was probably the best sex Steve's gotten in his life. He sighed and turned his head to Bucky, "how was that for your first time?"  
      He shrugged, "something doesn't feel right."  
      He rolled on his side and scooted closer to him, "I swear to god if you say this isn't right I'll have to punch you."  
      "But -"  
      "No. No partner of mine will bitch about what's right in god's eyes. You're here, you're in love, and you're gay."  
      "Not totally gay I still like women."  
      Steve laughed full bodied, "that’s true, but you're really gay."  
      "I don't think so."  
      "No, you're gayer than me and you even haven't even been gay for longer than a few months."  
      Bucky laughed and wiggled to his side, hand resting on Steve's waist, "that's true, I'll admit." He kissed the tip of his nose and moved closer to him until their chests touched.   
       Steve could stare into those eyes of his for eternity. They lit up under the dim, yellow lights and spoke a thousand stories. They were eager and full of life, desperate to release their stories to the world. "Where have you been?"  
      "Here?"  
      "No," Steve smiled sweetly, "I meant during the war, before we met. Where did you go? What did you see?"  
      "Well," he began, "I went to London, Paris, Germany, Ireland -"  
      "Ireland?" Steve's eyes lit up, "I've always wanted to go to Ireland! How does it look? Does everyone have red hair?"  
      "You've always wanted to go Ireland? Every girl I've talked to wanted to go to Paris."  
      "Paris is overrated. So what's in Ireland?"  
      "Red haired drunks with funny accents. They call everyone cunts. And their ladies are gorgeous."  
      Steve's eyes were wide and interested, and Bucky loved it, "I didn't go there because of the war, though. I kinda just ended up there."  
      "How the fuck do you just end up in another country?"  
      They laughed and Bucky dropped to his back. Steve wrapped his arm around his chest and nuzzled his neck. Bucky held him tight and he slowly closed his eyes and Steve did the same. “Let’s go to Ireland together,” he breathed out.  
      Bucky smiled and nodded, “I’ll take you there.”  
      They fell asleep on the floor together, wrapped in each other's arms. It was quiet, the city fell asleep, and all was good.   
      Bucky opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to look at Steve. He was in a deep sleep. He was beautiful; his golden hair fell softly on his face, his chest slowly rose and fell, and once in a while his hand would twitch or move, but remain on his chest. He liked this.   
      His brain got off the ideals the world has put out there and created his own. He stopped thinking about what he was told and started to focus on what he felt. He felt at home here, he belonged here.   
      He concluded that he was exactly right where he needed to be.

Bucky slowly opened his eyes. He was still on the floor, and Steve was still next to him. He smiled, despite having a sore back. He stared at the unchanged ceiling. It was still beat up and worn. He thought someone should fix it before it falls apart and the apartment becomes condemned. He looked back at Steve; he was slowly starting to wake up. His hand moved to his eyes and he rubbed them awake. His hand fell on his bare chest and he turned to face Bucky. They both caught each other's eyes and smiled. Steve rolled to his side and proped his head up, "we probably should've stayed on the couch."  
      Bucky laughed softly and rolled to his side. They just stared at each other for a while, neither of them believing they're there right now. It was almost surreal.   
      Bucky leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, making Steve smile widely. He kissed Bucky's nose and they both took a moment until they bursted into laughter. "We have to get off the floor."  
      Steve pushed him to his back and leaned on top of him, arms, up to his elbows, pressing against his chest. "I'm lazy," he lied his head on his chest, "we should stay here for a while longer."  
      "My back will snap in half if I don't get up."  
      Steve sighed and got off of him. He used the couch to lift himself up, and pulled Bucky up. He pulled him into his arms and kissed his bare shoulder, "I need to get art supplies."  
      "I didn't know you painted."  
      "Well, I don't. I draw."  
      "Well, I didn't know that."  
      Steve laughed, "well I do."  
      "Can I see your work?"  
      Steve pried himself off of him and put on a shirt. He sifted through the drawer in the bedroom and pulled out a small notebook. "It's not the best but..."  
      He handed Bucky the notebook and he flipped to a random page. It was a simple pen drawing of a hand holding a pen, tainted in black. The black ink dripped off the tips of the fingers and the pen wrote red. Bucky moved his finger over the pen markings, feeling the depth of the markings.   
      "I feel like this has a personal meaning."  
      Steve's heart fell out of his chest. His palms got sweaty, "kind of," he shrugged.  
      He slowly nodded and went to another page. It was a penciled jester. His face was covered by a mask that held an exaggerated smile. He held the mask with his abnormally large hand and held an axe in the other. "This is..."  
      Steve awkwardly laughed, "weird? I know."  
      "Familiar." Bucky looked at him, "kinda feels like me."  
      "Hopefully you're not an axe wielding, psychopathic clown."  
      Bucky laughed, "no, I'm not a clown."  
      Steve laughed and motioned for Bucky to return his book, which he reluctantly gave back. "If you want, I could try to paint you something."  
      Bucky smiled sweetly, "that'd be perfect, actually. I need a new naked man painted on my wall."  
      Steve laughed and dropped his book on the table, "stay here while I get the supplies."  
       Steve painted while Bucky stood there posing for it. His eyes would shift to Bucky and he'd catch his eyes and they'd both smile. He focused on his painting as if his life depended on it.   
      By the time he was finished, the sun was starting to drop. He stood up and smiled, "finished." He turned the canvas so he could see, and it wasn't even Bucky. "Steve, I'm not even in it!"  
      Steve laughed, "yeah you are; you're right here," he pointed to a small black spot, "and that's me."  
      "Why is the orange so big?"  
      Steve dropped his head back, "it's the sun, Bucky. It's a sunset. And we're watching it, because you said you wanted to watch the sunset romantically with me."  
      Bucky laughed softly, "that's quite the sunset."  
      "Well I told you I wasn't very good at painting."  
      Bucky slowly walked towards him and wrapped his arm around his waist. He pulled him in for a kiss, "it's perfect. It's much better than Van Gough."  
      "It's literally two black smudges looking at a giant fruit."  
      Bucky laughed against his neck, "it's perfect because it's terrible. It's no fun having good art on a wall."  
      Steve smiled and grabbed his shirt, letting his arms hang off his chest. His arms moved up and draped over his shoulders. He looked at Bucky and smiled as he swayed the both of them.   
      Bucky sighed and held tighter, "there's no music," he whispered.   
      "We don't need any. We can make our own."  
      "That sounds sexy."  
      Steve laughed and his arms fell, "that's something that would ruin the mood."  
      "Sorry." He pushed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "so..."  
      "So..."  
      It was awkward. Bucky looked around and Steve looked at his feet. Bucky's eyes caught the window; the fire-escape was rusted brown, but the railing held a slight, familiar light. He walked towards it and opened the window. He was able to see the water and the beach, and right next to it was Coney Island, and behind that was the sun. It painted the Cyclone black and shone through every curve and stop.   
      Steve stood at the window as Bucky crawled onto the fire-escape. The sunset didn't look as beautiful as he thought it would be. Something about it wasn't right. "Bucky?"  
      He turned to Steve then back at the sun, then he realized why it wasn't beautiful anymore; it wasn't a giant fruit with two black smudges on it.   
   
They sat on the roof well past the burial of the sun. On their backs and a blanket, they stared up into the velvet sky. It was sprinkled with glittery stars, some shining more than the others. Steve's head was on Bucky's stomach, lying in the form of a 't'. Their fingers tightly hooked together, and Bucky mindlessly played with Steve's hair.   
      Bucky thought about the time it took him to get here. He wondered what he'd be doing if he wasn't consuming all of his time here. Getting drunk at the bar? Getting head from some sad, rich, spoiled married woman who swears her husband hates her? The funny thing is, he loved that. He loved to have women swoon over him, loved sweeping them off their feet, but this was better. Lying on a roof, playing with soft blond hair, and doing nothing but stare at the night sky. It was quiet, peaceful - something he never thought he'd like. But that's what love does to you; it makes you experience things you never would have before.   
      Steve's mind was overflowing with his job. Every scenario he thought of ended badly. He would have to give the book to his boss sooner or later, or he'd know. He couldn't allow Bucky to be put in that situation - he didn't deserve it. He looked to the stars for mercy, but none responded kindly. They taunted him; told him he's the reason people were dead. He ruined the lives of too many people and it killed him inside, but he had absolutely nothing to do with it. It was because of people like him. He's part of it. He didn't mean for it to be like this. He didn't want anybody to fall in love with him, nor he with anyone. Sitting here, with Bucky on a rooftop in the dead of night, was his hell. His eyes blinked the burning tears until a single one fell from the corner of his eye. He prayed Bucky didn't notice; "you alright, Steve?"  
      His heart burst, "I need to tell you something." He sat up and Bucky followed. He swallowed hard and breathed heavily, "Bucky, I, uh," his eyes raced frantically, as if what he was trying to say was written on the roof, "I'm sorry."  
      "About what?"  
      Steve began to panic, so he blurted out whatever he could think of, "about the painting."  
      Bucky squared his brows at him and just blinked, "you're on the verge of a meltdown for a painting?"  
      "You wanted to see the sunset and we missed it and all you got to see what a goddamn, giant fucking tangerine with black smudges on it!"  
      "Well, we established that it was an orange."  
      "Fuck, you're right! A fucking, mutant orange!"  
      Bucky couldn't help himself; he began to laugh. Steve looked at him fuming, but then his mouth started to pull a smile. Even he had to admit he sounded like a fucking lunatic. Eventually, both of them were laughing on the roof, so much that their stomachs hurt and they couldn't breathe.   
      Bucky fell on his back and Steve toppled on his chest. They laughed until their faces were red and tears were streaming down their face.   
      After a few giggles and sighs, they finally finish. Steve held on to his chest and looked up at him through his long lashes, "do you love me?"  
      "What?" Bucky giggled.   
      He rolled onto his stomach and pressed his chin against his chest. He was looking at the plain, faded color of Bucky's shirt and made his fingers dance around his chest, "do you love me? If I were to do something so evil, so disgraceful, something I should get shot for, would you still love me?"  
      Bucky looked down at him, his smile faded, "that's very specific -"  
      "Just -" he sighed, "yes or no?"  
      "If no one was seriously hurt in any way, I'd still love you."  
      "What if I didn't hurt anyone, but someone I chose to work for, knowing what it was about, did?"  
      "Steve is there a problem? Is the general giving you shit because I swear I'd, fucking, well, I don't know what I'd do."  
      "Would you still love me if I was part of a secret job that served injustice to innocent people?"  
      Bucky looked at him, but Steve didn't look back. He tried to figure out what he was talking about, but he couldn't even decide where to begin, "Steve, if you were part of an organization that hurt innocent people, I would have to force myself to not love you. But if you acknowledge that it's a shitty job, and you're guilty about it and regret joining," he wrapped his arm around Steve's chest and pulled him tightly, "then my feelings for you wouldn't change. Either way, I'd love you regardless, but one scenario I'd have to torture myself."  
      Steve held on to Bucky's arm tightly and choked back his tears. He fucked up, but it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. But he knew if he told Bucky his real job - the real reason he was on that ship - Bucky would hate him in a heartbeat. But he had to tell him; if he found out by someone else, he didn't know what Bucky would do. His heart was like a cinderblock thumping his chest. "Bucky?"  
      "Yeah, Steve?"  
      "I love you. So much."  
      Bucky pulled at Steve's body, signaling for him to move up his chest, which he did.   
      Steve lied against his chest and Bucky lifted his head and kissed him, "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter and if you thought this chapter was long, just wait for the last one.  
> Sorry in advance :(


	4. Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long fml the end notes will explain but here's the final chapter of my not-so-anticipated mini thing???? (Posted from my phone so it may be weirdly formatted whoops)

The small notebook stared at him. It sat on the coffee table, taunting him. Steve told him that book is private, and he hid it from him. Bucky had seen where he had hid it, and not a moment after he left, he took it.   
      It was beat up, lined and ruled, and had a weak leather binding. It was bent and the pages were yellow and the ink was dispersed, probably fell in water. The leather was ripped and was engraved with pen scratchings and fork stabbings. It was begging him to open it.   
Bucky sighed and bowed his head. He was going to put it away. He picked it up and halfway through, Steve opened the door, "what are you doing?"  
      "Putting it back." Probably not the best answer he thought of, "I didn't read it!"  
      Steve put the stones on the table and took the book from his hands, "I told you you can't look inside!"  
      "I know, but I want to know what's in there! Just tell me!"  
      "I can't! And you wouldn't wanna know what's in here anyway. It's -"  
      "Personal?"  
      He shrugged, "you could say it is." He put the book in his pocket and stared at him.   
"You do know you're a punk, right?"  
      Steve rolled his eyes and, despite fighting it, his mouth pulled a smirk, "you're a jerk."  
  
Bucky buttoned up his pressed white shirt and pulled up his collar. A pure, black silk tie wrapped around his neck. He twisted it and pulled and looped it until it was presentable. He wasn't wearing any pants and Steve very much liked the view.   
      Bucky caught him staring and smiled, "like what you see?"  
Steve laughed and stood up. He walked up behind him and grabbed his ass, "very much." He picked up his jacket and helped him put it on. Bucky buttoned it up and Steve wrapped his arms around his waist, "you look sexy in a suit."  
       Bucky scoffed and pried him off, "try to control yourself this dinner is important."  
Steve hummed, "I don't know if I could I just want to touch you," his eyes roamed his body and he smirked, "all over."  
Bucky laughed and nudged his shoulder, "after."  
  
Clint (well, it was Nat's idea) held a dinner for his crew mates. Almost all of them showed up, which made Nat shoot Clint a 'told you so' look.   
      Bucky sat next to Steve, and they both sat on Clint's right. Bruce and Tony sat on his left, and the crew filled up the seats in between Clint and Natasha.   
      Turkey and salads filled the table, and wines accompanied the ends. The dinner started and the food was passed up and down the table and they chattered indistinctly about what they've been doing for the time being. They joked that the only reason they were there was for the free food, and Natasha. Clint gave Nat a look and she shrugged. She signed 'I never said they were going to come for you' and he shook his head.   
      Bucky was talking to a few shipmates when he felt a hand rest on his knee. He swallowed hard and realized they were all waiting for the punchline, so he tried to focus on the joke and not the tightening grip. "So then the dog barks and the priest -"  
      The hand instantly grabbed onto his crotch and stopped mid-sentence. He coughed and pushed Steve's hand away and rushed through the punchline, emitting the furious laughter anyway.   
      Bucky looked at Steve, who was laughing with the crew innocently, with the rim of his glass resting on his lip. Bucky smile was interrupted when a crew member spoke up, "you guys are really close; you brothers or something?"  
      "Ah, kinda, yeah," Steve answered, "we've known each other a while before I took up the job."  
      "Yeah," he added, "since we were in high school."  
      "Wow," he sarcastically noted, "really close I guess."  
      Tony cleared his throat, "so do you know where we're going next?"  
      "General hasn't said anything, but I have a feeling we're going to Germany."  
      "Or Ireland," Steve nudged Bucky.   
      "I'd love to go to Ireland," Bruce added.   
      "James went to Ireland. Well, by accident." Steve looked wide eyed at Bucky, who now had no choice but to tell the story.   
      Bucky cleared his throat, "I was drunk one night on a ship headed to Australia -"  
      "The fuck's in Australia?"  
      The table erupted in laughter, "I think there are more animals than people there!"  
      Bucky laughed and continued, "so me and a few guys, we were drunk on a tiny wooden boat, the 'Astley' it was called, and no one was steering the ship, so we woke up in an Irish prison."  
      "How did you get out?"  
      Steve raised a brow, "how did you get in is the question."  
      Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess we snuck in and they woke us up and asked us what the hell we were doing. So, after we were finished being questioned -"  
      Clint interrupted the story, "I just wanna make a toast; to the best group of men I've worked with, and I've worked with many groups."  
      They all laughed and raised their glasses. Steve raised his, but his other hand held on something else. Bucky's jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the fact that his dick was being played with. He was frustrated beyond comprehension, so Steve was gonna pay for it.

Bucky shoved Steve into the apartment and pushed him against the wall. Steve laughed and let his hands pull at Bucky's tie, and helped him pull it off. Their coats, shirts, belts and pants followed, and they stood there, in their underwear, letting their thoughts run freely. Steve was wearing a garter belt, and it's straps were holding thin black stockings with a single solid line down the middle. The garter straps were tightly on, and curved just as well as he did. Bucky was in love.  
      Steve swayed forward and his fingers prodded Bucky's chest, "so..."  
      Bucky laughed and took Steve's hand. He placed his palm against his lips and hummed. He leaned forward and met Steve's jaw.   
      He looked at Steve with a smirk, but it faded when he noticed Steve's expression, "what's wrong?"  
      It was as if Steve was in a trance, like a magician waving a watch in front of an audience member's eyes. "Steve?"  
      He snapped back to life, "what? Yeah," he sighed, "I'm fine, I was just thinking."  
      Bucky's hand held on to Steve's face and his thumb so delicately traced the curve of his lips, "about what?"  
      He covered Bucky's hand with his own, "nothing."  
      He took his hand away and kissed his forehead, "come on," his cheek, "don't," his nose, "be," his jaw, "a bitch." He giggled and bumped their foreheads, "tell me," he whined.   
      "It's just," he sighed, "you're such a dumbass." He bursted out laughing and Bucky pulled his hair, "you're a punk."  
      Steve laughed with his mouth wide open as Bucky's lips trailed down his neck, leaving behind spots of spit.   
      His arms wrapped around Steve's waist and he pulled him in as close as possible, their foreheads against each other's with smiles on their faces.   
They ended up in Steve's bedroom, Bucky under Steve. Steve's soft lips pressed against his chest, down his stomach, and left a hickey on the 'v' of his waist. Bucky's hips jerked up and his hands searched for something to grab at. The bedsheets ended up being the victim of his strength.  
      Steve's breath was warm and carnal; Bucky's breathing staggered and he drew his head back as Steve slowly pulled his underwear down and tossed it to the side.   
      He held Bucky's cock in his hand, and watched as his whole body embowed in lecherousness. His back arched and he took in a sharp breath, then let out a long moan the moment Steve's tongue touched his shaft.   
      Steve moved slowly and intimately, making sure Bucky had felt every inch of his cock enter his mouth. Bucky's mouth hung open and shook as he tried to find something to say. His eyes were shut tightly, fighting the urge to fuck his mouth like before, and his stomach just caved in and he shifted his hips with Steve's movements.   
      He wrapped his lips around the tip of his stiff cock and pulled them off. The second Steve's warm, wet tongue touched him, he let out a long, empty moan. He moved his hips with Steve's mouth, and tried to give him more, but Steve wouldn't allow him to move any closer, so he groaned in frustration.   
      Steve smiled and stopped, "you make a lot of noise."  
      Bucky's brain was too mixed up for him to even respond, so Steve did for him.   
      He picked up his belt and pulled it into his mouth. He pulled it tightly closed and wrapped the remaining leather around his head and mouth.   
      Bucky's mouth was wide open, and it almost hurt. Steve took one last, long look at his body before getting a condom and oil. Bucky waited - he eagerly whined behind the belt and wiggled under him.   
      Steve rolled on the condom and poured oil onto his fingers. He slipped one of his fingers in Bucky's entrance and his whole body moved up. Steve giggled at the sight of him.   
      Bucky had never felt this feeling before. Of all the women he’s slept with, none could make him feel this way, the way Steve made him feel. It was an experience he wanted to last forever, up until Steve curled his fingers and touched that sweet spot Bucky never thought he had.  
His hand grabbed Steve’s wrist and he rolled his hips against him. Steve laughed and let him ‘discover’ what he liked.   
Bucky’s knees came up and held Steve’s arm in place and just fucked his fingers. With a stupid smile on his face, Steve watched Bucky indulge himself in something that didn’t feel remotely as good as what Steve was about to do.   
      He could see his cock throb as he came close to cumming, but he pried his hand away from him and Bucky groaned and tried to reach his hands. Steve, on his elbows, hovered over him and drew a smirk when he realized Bucky didn't know what the fuck he wanted.   
      Bucky had never done this before, but he wanted Steve to fuck him raw, like his life depended on it. He wanted him to leave bruises and scratches and bites all over him; decorate his skin with Steve's affection. He wanted to be doused in sweat and out of breath with his heart pounding against his chest, but he was a virgin to this, and Steve would never go through with that until Bucky was a cock taking pro.   
Steve pressed a little kiss against his plump bottom lip. They looked into each other's eyes and spoke a million words that neither of them heard but understood. It was going to be a lot more romantic and a lot more intimate than Steve had planned, but he forgot his duties and indulged in what he was meant to do.   
      Steve's cock slowly pushed inside Bucky. His eyes rolled back and his body arched so high it fucking hurt. His eyes were shut tight and the sheets under him ripped under his grasp. He let out a throaty moan, almost like he was in pain.   
      Steve moved slowly, watching Bucky's facial expressions to make sure he was enjoying it, although Bucky didn't necessarily make the face of someone who loved it; "you okay?" he whispered.   
      Bucky nodded and swallowed hard. He grabbed on to Steve's back and pulled him close, dragging his nails up his back. His breathing was twice as erratic than before and his chest trembled. He made quite gasps with every push Steve made. His hips rolled almost naturally to match Steve's, and he held on even tighter.   
      Steve gripped to the sheets under him and moved slowly. His breath was heavy against Bucky's neck, and followed them with kisses. He pushed his cheek against Bucky's and felt the warm trail that lined the belt. He picked his head up and looked at him.   
      Bucky's throat moved profoundly with every breath from his mouth. His face held a concentrated look for a moment, before his eyebrows eased and his whole expression changed. His eyebrows curved upright, as if he was going to cry; his grip on Steve's back tightened and his knees rose. His hips stopped rolling with Steve's and his teeth became visible as he bit harshly into the leather belt. With a deep, raspy groan, he came and collapsed on the bed, and right after, Steve had followed.   
      Steve rolled off of him and they both stared at the ceiling. Bucky's face was flushed and his eyes struggled to stay open; he was exhausted.   
      Steve rolled on his side and faced Bucky, who did the same. They both just looked at each other for a second, then started to laugh quietly.   
      Steve took the belt from his mouth and Bucky rubbed the corners, "I think it gave me a friction burn."  
      Steve laughed and kissed the corners of his mouth, "better?"  
Bucky smiled sweetly, "no, it's not better."  
      He scoffed, "I tried my best I'm not sure what you want me to do."  
      Bucky smiled like a child and buried his hands underneath the pillow and closed his eyes. Tears swelled up in Steve's eyes. His heart ached; it was a physical pain in his chest and he knew it wouldn't go away. Whether he told James or not, he was screwed either way, and both of those scenarios ended with him being alone in his tiny apartment, no one to paint with, no one to share a bed with. He couldn't let him go, you'd have to pry him from his cold dead hands, even then you still wouldn't be able to separate him from Bucky. Bucky was his and his only, and he'd be damned if he were to lose him.

The message came in. Weeks of practically living together would end in a few days. They had received word on where they're going next; they were going to invade Sicily, fighting alongside with the British and Canadians. They were going to make an amphibious landing at Mollarella Beach. As expected, Bucky and his men were at the bar getting drunk. Steve was at his side, tapping his finger against the sweat of the glass, gazing at the dusty, liquid gold. He was interrupted; "Steve, will you join us into the jaws of death?"  
      Steve raised a brow and managed to pull a smirk, "nah, but I will clean your toilets on the way!"  
      The bar erupted with laughter Steve couldn't keep up with. His chest pushed his heart in his throat and he felt sick, and the alcohol wasn't making anything better. He had to tell him; "hey, Buck can we talk?"  
      "Jush talk right now" he hiccuped. He was beyond drunk. He belched loudly and everyone found it hilarious. He was just going to have to tell him tomorrow.

At breakfast, Bucky's head rested on the table and he lazily stuffed eggs in his mouth. Steve's leg couldn't stop jumping and his fingers held the glass much tighter than necessary. Bucky rose, "what's wrong?"  
      He looked at him and his eyes got cloudy, "nothing."  
      "Look," he sighed, "I don't know what you did before, and this might even be your first time, but you need to calm down." He held his hand and Steve just stared at him. "You're just a maintenance guy, and probably have never seen the war upfront. Don't worry," he smiled sweetly and whispered "I'll protect you." He kissed his hand and resumed his food.   
      Steve thought about his small notebook. He thought about throwing it in the ocean, sifting it in the ship's furnace, even setting it on fire on his fire escape. Something had always stopped him from destroying the evidence of their affair, and it was killing him. "I'm gonna go get some more paint."  
      Bucky smiled as he chewed, "are you gonna paint me?"  
      He managed to pull a smile, "only if you're nude."

Bucky was sitting on the fire escape, waiting for Steve to return. He watched the sidewalk, his heart fluttered with every guy who walked down the block because they had blond hair. Then the book hit him. He tried to ignore his curiosity but it got the best of him.   
      He rummaged through the apartment, picking up tiles, opening every drawer and cabinet, searching for the small, faux leather bound notebook. He checked under the bed and in the nightstands, he went through all of their clothes and checked behind the curtains. Steve either hid it very well, took it with him, or got rid of it.   
      He continued to look, and finally, behind the fridge, there it was. He picked it up and looked at the cover for a bit; 'why would Steve keep this so secretive?'  
      He opened the first page and it read 'met James Buchanan Barnes at the pub, he's captain, strange sense of humor.'  
Bucky smiled and turned to the next page. 'Tony and Bruce - very close, possibly brothers, definitely bullied in school.'  
      Letting out a laugh, he sat down and flipped to the middle. 'Finally pursued Barnes, in denial, refuses to see it as sex.' He squared his brows and turned the page, 'Tony and Bruce are in a romantic relationship, admitted it.'  
      Flipped ahead a few pages, 'James Barnes has admitted feelings for me -'  
      Steve walked in hugging the canvas, "Bucky! I told you not -"  
      He stood up and looked at him. Steve swallowed hard as he knew what was coming. He put his stuff down and spoke softly, "Bucky -"  
      "What is this? Why did you write everything down? Y-you wrote about us, and Tony and Natasha, private things, Steve, what if someone found this?!"  
Steve looked at him and felt his eyes burn. His eyes grew red as he tried to speak, "I'm sorry."  
      "Steve, I'm just worried that somebody would find this and jail us all! You've seen the news; men and women being outed by -"  
      They both looked at each other, right in the eyes, before Bucky could continue, "you did that."  
      "Bucky -"  
      He pointed a shaky finger at him, "you," he looked around trying to find the rest of his words, "you seduced me, so you can tell the general and throw me in prison!"  
      "No! Bucky at first it was like that, but," he tried to hold on to his hands but he swatted him away, "Bucky I love you."  
      Bucky's stomach ached and he felt like he was going to vomit. His head spun and that apartment was closing in on him. Every centimeter Steve took was an inch too close. His whole body burned and his face burned even more because of the wet lines running down his face. His throat closed up, "why?"  
      Steve shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry!"  
      "Burn it."  
      "What?"  
      "Prove to me that you love me. Burn the book."  
      "I can't do that -"  
      "Why? Because the general is gonna think you're gay? He-he's going to arrest you? Prosecute you like he did the rest?!" Steve looked at him doe-eyed. "I can't believe you."  
      "Bucky, please let me talk -"  
      Bucky ripped out pages from the notebook and Steve lunged for it. Bucky pushed him away and he fell on his ass.   
      Bucky ripped out more and more and each time Steve tried to stop him Bucky would push him harder. He finally ripped the binding in half and it's pages rained down like a storm. Steve looked up at him and cried.   
      Bucky watched him as he sniffled and weep like a child who had just broken a toy. Steve moved forward and silently gathered the pages, putting them in a messy pile. Neither were sure of what he was doing or why, and frankly Bucky didn't care. He kicked the pages and they went flying, making Steve cry even harder. He left him on the floor of the apartment and went to his second home. 

His liquor was top shelf this time, and the bartender had given him the entire bottle. He drank quietly and stared at the almost empty bottle and felt shame. He threw the bottle off the counter and the bartender yelled from the other side "if you're pissed go the fuck home you drunk!"  
      He threw back the rest and pulled out his wallet to pay for the bottle. A hand rested on his shoulder, "tough night in paradise?"  
      He looked over his shoulder; Tony stood behind him while Bruce took the seat next to him. He sat on the other side of him, "we heard what happened, between you and the misses."  
      "It's not the first time that shit's happened."  
      Bruce raised his finger to catch the tender's attention, "as a matter of fact I was in that position. I'm not joking."  
      Tony took a swig of Scotch, "it's true, and I was pissed. All hell broke loose. But then, I thought to myself, it could've been worse. He could've told on us."  
      "Mmhmm."  
      Bucky scoffed, "first of all, how did you know that's what we got into an argument about?"  
      "The thing with gays is that they always know when an issue is a gay issue."  
      Bruce passed his drink to Bucky and he took a sip, "he wrote everything down, and refuses to get rid of it. How can I just let that slide? He wrote down your situation too!"  
      Tony shrugged, "that's fine, actually. You see, we're the best damn science duo there is, so even if Steve says anything, they can't invade Italy without us."  
      "But I'm replaceable."  
      "Are you sure?" Bruce nudged him, "you went from soldier to captain in less than a year. I think you're pretty damn important."

He went back to Steve's apartment to find him still sitting on the floor. His back was against the wall and his head rested on his knees. "Steve?"  
      He slowly rose his head and stared at him. They both looked at each other and spoke at the same time - "Steve don't say anything. I know. We just have to get rid of it."  
      "I already did, except for this one last page," he held up a paper that had a single sentence on it. Bucky crouched down and took it out of his hands.  
      Dated just a week earlier, Steve added that that page was the last journal entry he wrote. Bucky read it a few times before holding Steve's arm and pulling him off the floor.   
      They walked to the water, hand in hand, in broad daylight, and stood on the pier. The page fluttered in the wind like a flag, and in some way it was. The white flag was released into the ocean; it declared their love, and their end. But ultimately, it declared their untimely beginning.

The bathroom wall was harsh. His back was bound to be calloused if Bucky didn't hurry up. They kept themselves quiet; their breathing was heavy and against each other's shoulders. Bucky occasionally kissed his bare shoulder, and Steve would do the same. His breath made his neck sweat. The bathroom was not big enough for two people.   
      Steve's leg was held up by Bucky's rough hand, and his other leg stood him up. His raised leg pushed against the wall and Bucky stood right in between, his hands grabbing whatever they could, while Steve's arms draped over his shoulder.   
      Steve threw his head back and held his mouth open, prompting Bucky to cover it with his own mouth. A few thrusts later, and they both came.   
      Steve dropped his head on Bucky's shoulder and spoke with a panted breath, "you forgive me?"  
      Bucky giggled and sighed, "not sure yet. Maybe we should fuck in front of the crew to prove your loyalty."  
      Steve poked his skin with his teeth and laughed. They both got dressed and left the tiny bathroom; "you know, if you guys were any louder, the Italians would bomb our shit dead and we're couple'a hundred miles out," Tony snickered.   
      They both scoffed and parted, continuing their work. For the following days, it continued. Fucking each other breathless and returning to work like nothing was going on. They kept it in Bucky's office most of the times, and in the bathrooms, and that one weird time they were in the freezer and almost got frostbite on their ass cheeks. It only had been a week, more or less, and the make up sex took up almost half the time. They joked that this would be Bucky's last days on earth, and they wanted to make it amazing.  
  
Around midnight, when the crew switched their shifts, Steve stayed back to look out the porthole. Like the last time, nothing was out there except his reflection and total blackness. It sent shivers down his spine, how dark it is underwater. Not knowing what was surrounding him shook him to the core.   
      A whale could run into the ship at any moment and no one would've fucking guessed. Of course, whales are probably sleeping at this time of night, but whales also probably don't know the concept of time, so they could be awake.   
      He argued with himself back and fourth, and didn't realize his face held an expression of confusion and anger, which made Bucky smile.   
      Bucky dropped his hand on his shoulder and Steve jumped, "Jesus, don't scare me like that."  
      He laughed, "what are you thinking about?"  
      "Whales," Steve sighed.  
      "Whales?"  
      "Yeah, Bu-James, whales. Right now, one could attack the ship and we'd all die."  
      Bucky tried to make sense of what he was going on about. He took the seat next to him and patted his knee, "Steve, whales are asleep right now."  
      "Psh," he shrugged, "how would you know? Whales don't have a concept of time."  
      "Not likely, but the sun set. They do all the shit they gotta do in the morning, and go to sleep at night like every non-nocturnal animal does. It's common sense, Steve."  
      He rolled his eyes and swatted his hand away, "maybe whales are nocturnal."  
      Bucky furrowed his brows and shook his head, "I'm not having this discussion with you right now. It's late, and you didn't clean my office."  
      "You told me not to!"  
      Bucky looked at Steve and Steve's face lit up like a light, "oh."

Steve was bent over his table on his back and Bucky was doing all the work. Steve occasionally closed his eyes, only to force them open and stare at the ceiling. Bucky was getting frustrated, "Steve", he breathed heavily, "what, the hell, are you doing?"  
      "I can't focus," he said nonchalantly.  
      Bucky dropped his head on his shoulder, "well for christ's sake focus I wanna get to bed."  
       "I can't stop thinking about the whales."  
      Bucky stopped and groaned. He was close, but Steve killed his vibe, "fuck." He pulled out and brought attention to his dying dick, "you see what you did? Un-fucking-believable." He pulled up his pants and lied on his table next to Steve, "you owe me."  
      Steve ignored and continued to stroll through his trance, to Bucky's dismay, "what, Steve?"  
      He shifted and slightly tiled his head toward Bucky, but kept his eyes on the ceiling, "the whales -"  
      "Fucking hell, Steve!" He stood up and threw his clothes at him, "what's so important about the fucking whales? They're asleep, dammit!"  
      He sat up and pulled his pants to his waist, "I'm not talking about the fucking whales Bucky! Stop bringing up the whales!"  
      Bucky looked at him, "get out."  
      Steve tried with all the force he had, but the smile crept on his face anyway, "I'm thinking about the Italians, Buck."  
      "They're probably asleep too -"  
      Steve flicked the pen at him, "fuck you Bucky, I meant what if they capture you? Or worse they -"  
      "But they won't."  
      "But what if they do?"  
      "Steve -"  
      "I don't wanna lose you Buck."  
      The room fell silent and Bucky sighed. His face moved in every way possible. He tried to think of something that would make Steve feel better, or at least make him worry less, but it was almost fact. There's a fifty percent chance he would be either captured or killed, and they both knew that. "That's not gonna happen, Steevie, I won't let them."  
      He looked up at him with his bambi eyes through his line of lashes. His eyes shone with emotion and his fists held tight. He opened his mouth, but it took a moment before anything came out; "I just want us to go home."

"What time is it, Capt'n?" Bruce yelled from his station.  
      "Really fucking early; why do you ask?"  
      "Because the coast of Licata is within the horizon, sir."  
      Bucky's heart beat faster as he looked at the radar and seen, indeed, Banner wasn't lying, "well, load the missiles up and prepare for the offense of a lifetime."  
      Steve was lying in his bunk when the crew began to fumble through their bags and pulled out paper, pens and little containers. Some went as far as taking out a photograph of their loved ones, folding them up, and putting them in their pockets. His heart fell out of his chest, and he quickly ran to find Bucky.  
      Crewmen were everywhere, taking up every inch the sub didn't have; talking, laughing, cheering and talking vulgarity towards the Axis. He forced himself through the crowds, and bursted through his office door.   
The commander and a few of his men, fully dressed were standing around the table, stared at Steve as he panted and tried to catch his breath, "Sir, I need to speak to you."  
      "No."  
      Steve blinked, "what?"  
      "I'm busy, we can talk later."  
      "Now, we need to talk now!"  
      The men looked toward Bucky, and without skipping a beat, "get out Steve, we will talk later."  
      "What if there is no later?"  
      The men looked puzzlingly at Bucky with raised brows. His face grew hot as his brain began to fuss. He looked at his men, sent them out, and Steve closed the door. "What?"  
      Steve walked up to the table, leaned over, grabbed his suit and forced his lips against Bucky's. He didn't fight it, and for a second, didn't notice the guys standing there, watching.  
      Bucky pushed Steve back and they stared at each other. Bucky motioned for Steve to turn around, and he did, "fuck off, you've never seen two guys kiss before? I know you have," he pointed to the guy on the right, "you sucked my dick a couple months ago."  
      The guy on the right raised his hands in defeat and they both waked out.  
      Bucky scoffed and Steve pulled him in again. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and shuddered as he tried to hold his tears back. He pushed is forehead against his and Bucky wiped his tears away with his finger, "it's gonna be okay," he whispered.  
      "But what if it's not?"  
      "But what if it is?"  
      Steve pulled away and looked at him. His big eyes were red and wide. Like a storm, tears fell down his face like rain on glass, and his nose was rosy and running.   
Bucky's calloused fingers ran across his cheeks; their roughness were more comforting than the fur of any small animal. He basked in them, holding them tight over his face as he trembled. A kiss against his nose made nothing better, but it didn't worsen the situation either.  
      Bucky walked around the table to be closer to him, and he held him tight. He tore down every wall he had ever built, and in that moment, built a whole new kingdom, just for the two of them. Solid walls to keep them safe from the rest of the world, sheltered and unchanging. Too bad it was only a matter of time until the world he built would be destroyed by the world they lived.

They were within hours reach of the beach. Bucky had explained everything to Steve - where they were going, how they're going to do it, and what was going to happen. Although Steve now knew everything there was to know, he still felt there was something missing, something Bucky wasn't telling him. There was a sharp, throbbing pain in his chest and he felt faint, and the boat's constant rocking and tossing didn't make him feel any better.   
      He took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Bucky cut him off - "I know what you're going to say. Don't say it, because it's not going to happen."  
      "But Bucky -"  
      "But nothing. I'm experienced, Steve. I've survived invasions like this. There's absolutely nothing to worry about." He pulled a smirk and traced Steve's cheekbone; he felt his tight-skinned cheeks tremble to the touch. 'He's done this before', he told himself, 'he's experienced.' "But what if something happens? Something doesn't go as planned?"  
      Bucky rolled his eyes and took his hand back, "then we change the plan! Has the sun risen yet?"  
      "James, we are in a submarine hundreds of miles underwater, I have no fucking clue if the sun rose."  
      He raised his hand towards the door, "then go find out!"  
      He grunted and rolled his eyes, "fine. While I'm out, try not to start the war without me."  
      "Honey, the war has already started -"  
      "Then don't win it without me." He walked out the door and took a deep breath. His face was burning hot and his whole body shook. He leaned against the wall and watched the men rush down the halls dressed in their uniforms. 'There's absolutely nothing to worry about'. God, he hoped he was right.

He lost track of time as he rubbed the same spot on the iron table until the metal was beginning whiten. The chemicals turned his hands red and raw, and his body tried to fight off the reaction. Heavy hands dropped on his shoulders and his heart skipped a few beats. He knocked the bottle over and yelled - "fuck!"   
      He turned around and Bucky was laughing, which prompted him to shove him, "fuck you, asshole you scared me!"  
      Trying to catch his breath, he held on to Steve's shoulder and and held his stomach, "I - I'm, *huff* I'm sorry, Steevie I didn't -" he laughed some more, "I didn't know I'd scare you."  
      "Yes you did that's why you assaulted me."  
      "Pshh, oh," he irreverently dragged, "right, I forgot you're like a fucking elephant, scared of a bee, yeah?"  
      Steve scoffed and crossed his arms, "y'know what -"  
      "What?" Bucky pushed himself on Steve, and they leaned over the table, Steve's lower half propping them up.   
      Steve smirked, "or I'll mess you up."  
      "Oh yeah," he whispered.  
      Steve nodded, "mmhm."  
      They both smiled and giggled and gave each other little kisses all over.   
      "Sir?"  
      They both looked over Bucky's shoulder and at the soldier, "yes?"  
      "We're arriving, and it's absurdly quiet, sir."  
      With his arms wrapped around him, Steve felt more at ease than when they were in his apartment.   
      Bucky nodded and turned back, "guess we have a war to win."

All of the men stood in the firing room, staring back and forth between the porthole and the altitude counters. Indistinct conversation was held between the scientists - "Banner, report."  
      "Uh," he fumbled a few buttons and swatted Tony's hand away from his desk, "winds, sir."  
      "Really strong fucking wind, which is probably why there's no Italians out on the beach."  
      He nodded, "and what do you expect?"  
      "Well," he spun around, "it'll be boring."  
      "Uneventful," Banner added.  
      "Anticlimactic."   
      "Well, except for the assholes who took a wrong turn," Clint put in, "they say they may be at least six hours behind."  
      "Ah, fuck 'em."  
      "I intend to," Tony chuckled under his breath.

As it were, the emergence was completely dull. For being a World War, it was pretty disappointing. Within hours, Mollarella Beach was firmly in the U.S's hold. The crew checked the tanks that arrived a little later, and they pretty much hung out.   
      "It's not Ireland," Steve sighed, "but I guess it's cool."  
      Bucky laughed, held him close and planted a kiss on his temple, "I'll take you to Ireland when we're finished."  
      "Promise?"  
      "Of course."  
      "Sir?"  
      "For the love of Christ what?"  
      "Ah," he began stammering, "we, uh, got a hold of 169km down the coast. The Brits and Canadians are arriving now."  
      Bucky looked over at Steve and smiled. The guy continued talking but it was muffled, and if he didn't hear it, it didn't matter. All that actually mattered was those big blue eyes staring back at him. Those globes of water and ice were almost their own lights. God he could stare in them forever. But he couldn't; they're in war.

It remained quiet. The land was still clear, and the voices of content soldiers filled the air. They all relaxed as if they had single-handedly won the war. They watched the skies for any airborne attacks, and, as if it were scripted, fighter jets were coming in fast.  
      The men quickly held their ground, set up their guns and waited for the planes to fly within distance. Bucky yelled for Steve to get back in the sub with Banner and Tony before they submerge, but being stubborn as he was, he grabbed a gun and prepared himself. Bucky shook his head but accepted it. The planes flew overhead, and off the guns went.  
      Steve felt a sharp ringing in his ear; he was sure he was going deaf. His shoulder ached from the recoil, and his heart thumped hard against his chest. His mind held no thoughts, not until the shooting had stopped.   
      He looked around to find Bucky, to make sure he was okay, and he was... almost.   
      He was sitting on the sand and a few people were surrounding him. He'd been shot in the leg and the arm, and Steve jumped over the mangled bodies and ran to him - "Bucky -"  
      "Shut up, Rogers," he playfully shouted, "I'm fine, it's only a scratch."  
      "A scratch? Bucky your arm is almost torn off!"  
      "Bah," he hushed him and was supported up, "I've been through worse," he laughed and patted his shoulder, "I'll tell you when we get back."  
      Steve smiled uneasily and helped him limp over to a gurney. A few steps forward and a shot rang through the atmosphere. Bucky was shoved down with Steve, and the enemy was put down.   
      Bucky coughed up sand and debris and looked at Steve, who rolled to his back and spit out blood.   
      Bucky grabbed him and pulled himself closer; Steve's chest spewed blood and his eyes were shut tightly. "Oh god -"  
      He wrapped his arm around him and pulled him up on his lap and covered the wound with his torn sleeve. Steve was in excruciating pain, but he managed to pull a smile when he seen him. He coughed and spit out the blood, "Bucky -"  
      "Steve you're okay. You're okay, it's only a wound people get shot all the time and live it's fine you're fine I swear to god you're fine."  
      Steve made a noise that was a mixture of pain and a laugh. "I know I'm fine," he lied, "I'm gonna come home with you, Buck. We're gonna go home and -"  
      "You're such a dumbass Steve," he cried. "I told you to stay in the sub where it's safe I told you and you didn't listen, and, and -"  
      "I'm fine."  
      "You're not fine!"  
      Steve laid his hand softly over Bucky's hand and squeezed it lightly, "you didn't tell me about Ireland."  
      He stared in those icy blue eyes and felt heavy in his chest. They weren't dying, in fact they were more alive than they ever were. They were cloudy and lined with pain, but it was disguised so well it was as if he was okay.   
      He closed his eyes and tried to get back to Ireland. Tears ran down his trembling cheeks and he smiled, "we were in the prison and -" he looked at him, and Steve was still with him, listening to that golden punchline Bucky always seemed to have, "and he bet me I couldn't remove a finger myself, and he said," he laughed, "he said he'd let us go if I cut off a finger, and I did."  
      Steve smiled and coughed out a laugh, "bullshit."  
      He shook his head, "it's true, I swear."  
      He smiled, "you have all of your fingers."  
      He laughed quietly, "I didn't say I'd cut off my own."  
      "What happened after?" Steve tried to keep the conversation going as long as he could. He was going to die there; there was not a chance in hell he would make it to a medic and survive, and they both fucking knew it, but Bucky didn't want to believe it.   
      "It got infected, then his hand stump got infected."  
      Steve laughed and coughed hard, and his lively face died almost instantly. He wasn't smiling anymore, but still held tight with his eyes closed. He said something but Bucky didn't hear. "I, I only wanted the job, just so I can sleep with soldiers."  
      Bucky looked at him and Steve opened one eye, and they both laughed hard. Bucky pushed his head against Steve's; he wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying, but he just wanted Steve's breath against his cheek. "I love you Steevie, so fucking much," he whimpered, "you're my Steevie I love you."  
      Steve smiled, then his hand slowly fell from Bucky's hand and Bucky shot up and looked at him, "Steve?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking kill me amirite? Long story short, got too lazy, college keeps me busy etc and other lame shitty excuses for being a lazy ass lmao.   
> If yall got any requests leave em in the comments or my tumblr @/petes-hotspot  
> Thanks for reading bbys 


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